Christopher Schroeder

Category: community and culture

  • The Only Guarantee

    The Only Guarantee

    I was quickly consumed by the new comedy crime thriller Maximum Pleasure Guaranteed but ultimately couldn’t find any significance substance behind the flash, which only confirmed my larger concerns.

    Divorced fact-checker Paula (Tatiana Maslany), who is fighting her remarried ex-husband Karl (Jake Johnson) from moving their young daughter Hazel (Nola Wallace) to a different state, is blackmailed by a cam-boy and later witnesses this cam-boy’s murder by his boyfriend. She becomes a suspect after NYPD detectives process the crime scene — she had gone to her blackmailer’s home to confront him — and uncovers in exonerating herself with her co-workers’ help a larger blackmailing scheme.

    This streaming series, which is well liked by credible critics, cleverly incorporates contemporary technology and its cultural effects, which is part of its appeal. It also features tech-savvy characters and multiple plot twists, like a Möbius strip, across ten episodes that never exceed forty minutes, which maintains its fast pace.

    None of that though prevents its creator David J. Rosen from developing both primary and secondary characters. For example, the often-abrasive ex-husband Karl, who remarried apparently after an affair, plans to relocate to a rural state, and is fighting for custody of their kid, offers to rent an apartment near their new home for his ex-wife Paula, which he believes is compassionate and not as Paula suggests controlling.

    Paula as protagonist is clearly complicated, and as convincingly portrayed by Maslany reestablishes some credibility only to reveal herself as manipulative or dishonest or just something other than she seems. This fact-checker offers intriguing and insightful philosophical pretzels, such as the difference between facts and truth in a bathroom conversation with her boss, for nibbling.

    These clearly converge in Paula’s courtroom custody hearing testimony. She has been ruthlessly interrogated by the opposing counsel about her online sexual activity for example around her daughter when she reminds that she is the only mother in the courtroom, which contrasts her with Karl’s new wife Mallory (Jessy Hodges), and that she as Hazel’s mother best knows what her daughter needs.

    Paula wins, which surprises Karl and quite possibly the rest of us, and she quickly reassembles her life only to have it upended as expected by yet another revelation that fittingly comes in the conclusion, which reinforces the reality that this master manipulator, and not the blackmailing corporation, is the actual, or at least the emotional, center of this story.

    This cast of appealing characters does everything it can to cover up for the underdeveloped plot. Its premise — a fact-checking divorcee investigates blackmail better than the NYPD, and a shadowy corporation that offers blackmail as a service — might be satisfying but is ultimately implausible.

    Why would this flailing and frenetic single mother be less credible to experienced detectives than the cam-boy’s blubbering boyfriend who is being interviewed by them in an interrogation room, and who is the actual murderer? Why would these off-book employees be inspired by this criminal corporation to establish their own blackmailing schemes?

    The combined effect at least for me is a shove from the story into other observations, such as the product placement pattern of Apple devices for Paula and her co-workers and non-Apple devices for others. That made me recognize the ways that digital devices both facilitated and complicated the lives of these characters and by extensions our own, and even the reflection of their affordances in the aesthetic of this streaming series, which was co-produced by Apple Studio and premiered on Apple TV, and other stories.

    The extreme pleasure promised in the title comes from its flash that after fading seems superficial and shallow. Perhaps it’s intended to be ironic, and as such illustrates the limits of lives that suspend delayed gratification and seek pleasure at all costs.

    If so, then this streaming series could be a commentary about master manipulators that exert control and avoid consequences while everyone else chases the next dopamine hit, which makes us the actual victims. That in the digitally maximal world of today might have death and taxes as our only guarantee.

  • Just What The Doctor Ordered

    Just What The Doctor Ordered

    Dana Suskind’s latest book Human Raised: Nurturing Connect, Curiosity, & Lifelong Learning in the Age of AI might target parents but offers insights for all of us.

    Suskind, who is also a University of Chicago surgery and pediatrics professor, encourages parents to foreground the irreplaceable human connection, own their parenting imperfections, protect their kids’ early years, and limit AI to enhancing adult-child interactions, or HOPE. She also describes ways that AI can support parents and newborns with language learning or sleep habits as well as reduce demands on both busy parents and overburdened teachers.

    Suskind’s expertise and experience establish a compelling context for this project, and her voice is immediately noticeable. She integrates research and experience, both professional and personal, with an engaging personality in ways that will appeal to, and engage, her intended audience.

    publisher cover image

    The effect is an established authority that commands attention yet remains accessible and compassionate. As a result, her perspective and approach, which consistently position parents at the center, are compelling and convincing. In these, AI functions as a powerful tool that serves human ends rather than dictates or worse determines these.

    Suskind repeatedly encourages parents to retain their instincts, and refuses to relinquish these to not just AI agents but also pediatricians. She also models her perspective in the ways that she owns her own parenting imperfections, which she incorporates into her argument for doing so.

    Artificial intelligence Suskind acknowledges encourages users to expect perfection. Parents however should understand that their failures, and what follows, are ways that their children develop crucial life skills, such as individual resilience and relationship repair.

    This argument can reassure new parents, who can use it to calibrate their own criteria, and even older ones, including those who have grown children as I do. I’ve suggested to my spouse that we were good enough parents, which was more than enough, but Suskind offers an even more compelling argument for such parenting as even more.

    This example suggests the larger appeal of this book. It caught my attention because I have been searching for first, or foundational, AI principles, and wondered if despite its intended audience it would suggest some. From it, I learned a way of thinking about both my parenting and my AI approach, which is even more than I hoped.

    AI according to Suskind should never substitute for human connection, imperfection can trump efficacy and efficiency, certain parts of human experience must be protected, and our efforts can be usefully enhanced with smart strategies.

    These insights are useful for raising kids, and living, in a world of artificial intelligence.

  • Neither Silly Nor Smart

    Neither Silly Nor Smart

    I expected to enjoy The End of Oak Street, as credible critics suggested I would, more than I did.

    This movie, which is written and directed by David Robert Mitchell, tells the story of a suburban housewife, and aspiring novelist, named Denise (Anne Hathaway) and her disintegrating marriage to Greg (Ewan McGregor) as their neighborhood is teleported to prehistoric times. Denise must save her children Audrey (Maisy Stella) and Brian (Christian Convery) and their acquaintance Jeannette (Jordan Alexa Davis) by jumping into a shimmering, and blinking, wormhole blob that returns them to their present where she warns, and saves, her husband and neighbors.

    I like others was intrigued by the Amblin allusions, such as the suburban adventure and physical effects that appeal to kids and grownups. These were supplemented with thriller conventions more associated with Mitchell, and make me wonder whether the movie was more dystopian than I initially believed.

    The effort is an inconsistent tone that for me highlighted awkward performances and stilted scenes. As a result, it wasn’t the “refreshingly, doesn’t care,” and fun, movie that some, such as NPR Pop Cultural Happy Hour host Linda Holmes and her guests, claim it is.

    Holmes, who in her accompanying newsletter surveys Mitchell’s previous efforts, argues that he and his cinematographer Mike Gioulakis use experimental techniques without compromising control. As a result, she believes believes that this hybrid action-adventure horror movie, which relies upon a simple structure, a satisfying theme, and a short running time, is intentionally “raucous and silly” with “over-the-top” moments as an entertaining experience that viewers deserve.

    I’m unsure how to reconcile this analysis, which seems plausible and persuasive, with the mindless summer entertainment, and more fun in a group, conclusion. Does fun need the neutralization of perception and reflection? What makes this movie any different from other mindless entertainment with which we’re amusing ourselves to death?

    The problem isn’t a lack of potential. For example, Denise recounts her experience in a replacement manuscript — her previous one is lost in a basement flood — that is published as a book, and is presumably why her family seems wealthier at the end than they were in the beginning, which raises questions about 1980s intersectionality that are unacknowledged.

    The ending in contrast does acknowledge a different problem, and potential. The military has secured Denise’s neighborhood, scientists are investigating wormholes, and Denise’s family hosts a barbecue with Jeannette’s parents and two versions of her.

    The second Jeannette, which is presumably a cloned version, is required, or resolved, by the plot. Denise after leaping into the wormhole and returning to their present orders a pizza that Greg delivers — he had been delivering pizzas to Denise’s dismay after he was fired from Chrysler, and her kids and she witnessed his death by dinosaurs in the prehistoric world — and apparently also warns Jeannette’s parents, who seemingly escape with her.

    Any residual escapist entertainment evaporated for me the moment two Jeannettes appeared at the barbecue. They however and the others quickly disappear with the end of the movie, which concludes with even more unasked questions.

    I suppose that Jeanette’s parents couldn’t be convinced, especially in such a short span of time, to leave her behind. I also suppose that Greg didn’t even consider whether to get the rest of his family because he was delivering pizzas without them, and wasn’t told he was escaping an imminent tragedy.

    I enjoy entertainment, and even escapism, as much as anyone. I just resent any time such experiences encourage me to ignore questions, and require me to sacrifice skepticism and relinquish reason, especially while aspiring to be something more substantial.